Keeping Company
by halffictionalprincess
Summary: The last person Hermione expected to meet at The Leaky Cualdron at two am is Draco Malfoy, and she's even more surprised to find that he might even be better at keeping her company than her book.


_**A/n- This story isn't complete, and I don't know what it going to happen next because I have no idea where it came from, I'll let you guys know when I figure it out.**_

 _ **Disclaimer- Yeah, like I could be J.K Rowling.**_

 _ **Keeping Company**_

Hermione stepped in the doors of the Leaky Cauldron at two in the morning and slipped into her usual booth.

She waved to the two other patrons, people she only knew by their faces, and the only connection they shared was that they were all here, in the dead of night, all together because they have nowhere else to be.

Hermione was different; she could think of a million other places that she could be.

But she preferred to be here, where no one asked questions, no one wondered if she was okay, no one expected her to be okay.

The usual waitress swung by her table, placing a hot cup of tea in front of her and then whisked away, without a word.

She took a sip, and opened the book in her hand, forcing herself to get lost in a story that wasn't hers, a story of a world where she wasn't awake because her nightmares wouldn't let her sleep, of a girl who hadn't faced death, loss, and torture at the age of eighteen.

She forced herself to not think about her own story and get lost in someone else's.

But she couldn't.

Tonight wasn't like all the others, usually she could easily get lost in a novel, but tonight her thoughts kept returning to her last nightmare. She'd dreamed that she was back in Godric's Hollow, on that Christmas, but this time they didn't manage to escape, this time she couldn't save Harry and she'd woken up sobbing to the visual of Nagini swallowing Harry.

Her heart smiled as she thought of Harry, her best friend was doing a lot better than she was, he was trying hard to let go, to move on, and everyone else thought she was too. He was smiling again, slowly finding his way back to the Harry she used to know, the Harry who was her best friend, the Harry that she loved.

The Weasleys were healing, slowly finding their rhythm without Fred, slowly going back to their lives, even George had started to smile again. Ginny and Harry were finding their way back to each other after months of being apart. Fleur and Bill were expecting their first baby, and Teddy was growing like a weed, slowly becoming bigger every day.

Her life felt like a maze these days, as soon as thought she'd finally found her way another wall would be in front of her, a maze she couldn't find her way out of, and her existence had become a stagnant reminder that this maze had no way out.

Everyone was moving ahead, but Hermione was stuck in her own prison, she couldn't find an escape from the dreams, and it didn't exactly help that her heart wasn't in the best condition.

It had taken her and Ron only a month to figure out that they weren't nearly as compatible as a couple as they had been as friends. They'd spent most of the time fighting, and unlike all the other fights before, Harry couldn't really intervene this time. After four weeks of constant fighting and misunderstandings, they'd realised they weren't meant to be anything more than friends.

And even though she knew all that, it still hurt, because she'd dreamed of being with Ron for so long that now when it happened, it didn't live up to either of their expectations.

Hermione sighed, trying hard not to concentrate on all that was wrong in the world, trying to believe that things will be better. Trying hard to believe that there might come a night when she could sleep without nightmares, for a night when she wouldn't end up in this booth, drinking this tea.

The screech of a chair being pulled out broke Hermione away from her thoughts and she dropped her book out of surprise.

The chair being pulled away was the other one of her table and Hermione's shock deepened when she realized who was sitting in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked; her voice full of disbelief.

"Trying to figure out what you are doing here in the dead of the night, Granger," he said, and sat down in front of her, resting his hands on her table after signalling the waitress for another cup of tea.

Hermione still couldn't figure out what he was playing at, "And that's any of your business, how?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

"It's not," he said, grinning at the waitress as she poured him a cup, making her blush that in turn caused Hermione to roll her eyes.

"Then, I ask again, why are you here?" she asked, becoming more curious by the second as to what he was doing here.

"As I said before, darling, I'm here for you," he said, but this time his grin was directed at hers, and damn if didn't make her want to blush, but she maintained her ground.

"I'm not your darling, Malfoy," she spat out, "I'd rather burn in hell."

"Ah, aren't you being a little harsh, Ms Granger?" he asked again, not fazed by her at all.

"You know I think I am," she said, with the sweetest smile she could manage, "please don't take offence, darling," she said, emphasising on the word.

His smile grew, but she could see that he didn't believe her, and well, he wasn't meant to.

"Also, no offence, but you kind of represent everything I despise in the world," she said, still with the smile that soon changed to a frown when he started laughing.

She huffed, not pleased by his response at all, and bent down to pick up her fallen book. She opened it to a random page, and pretended to read. She had no idea at all why he was bothering, or what he was doing with her at two thirty am in the morning. He was the last person she'd expected to see here, especially sitting with her.

"You never cease to impress me Granger," he commented while slowly sipping his tea.

She rolled her eyes and continued to stare at the book in her hand though her rage made it almost impossible to comprehend anything written on the page.

She felt his eyes on her for another few moments before she snapped and asked , "What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said, "I'm just wondering how you are reading that book upside-down,"

She looked at the book in her hands and realized that he was right, she had been holding the book upside-down, and immediately a blush rose up her cheeks and she retaliated with the only thing she knew would affect him.

"And I'm wondering why you are here, sitting on a table with a mudblood like me, won't it dirty you up?" she said, and knew immediately that she'd taken it too far as the smile on his lips vanished, only to be replaced with something far more worrisome, guilt and concern.

Her fingers intuitively reached up her forearm rubbing over the scars that had been left behind after that day, rubbed over the word that his aunt had carved into her skin as he'd stood there, watching.

His eyes followed their procession, and he said, "I'm sorry," so softly that she wondered if she'd imagined it.

"I'm sorry for what she did, " he said, louder this time, "I know it won't ever be enough, but for all it's worth, I'm sorry, even though I know it's not worth a lot. And I'm also terribly sorry for just standing there,"

Tears rose up her eyes at him unexpected words, tears, she wished would go away. She hadn't expected this, not tonight, not ever, she hadn't expected Draco Malfoy to say those words, and she hadn't expected to know that he meant them.

She didn't reply, she didn't know what to say, but she did smile at him, but unlike before, it wasn't made up or fake.

"What are you doing here, truly?" she asked softly.

"I come here when I can't sleep, " he replied, shrugging, "I've seen you here before, always reading, but tonight I couldn't keep away, not when you looked like... like you were broken."

She stared at him, wondering how she'd missed him before, she also wondered how he'd known that was exactly how she'd felt.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Nightmares," she honestly replied, knowing he had them too when he nodded, "I come here to be alone," she added, though she didn't know why, she didn't feel alone tonight, and somehow it felt a little better.

"I do, too," he said, smiling softly, "Maybe we can be alone together, maybe we can keep company even in loneliness."

Though his words made no sense, she understood them perfectly, He might even be better at keeping her company than her book, she thought and said, "Maybe."


End file.
